Quincy and the Chocolate Girl

You know who's a terrible dancer? Jack Klugman.

I remember we were at the MGM together for one of Frank's birthday parties.

Can't remember which one. Bobby Kennedy was still alive, if that helps.

Anyway, Jack had been chatting up a mulatto waitress. Sexy. Smelled like bananas and coffee.

She laughed him off, but he was a determined bastard.

Asked her if she'd go to dinner with him if he did a backflip right then and there.

Well, I knew how much gin he'd had, so I motioned to people to back up.

Too late, I'm afraid. He flipped and took out a table.

Sinatra's great aunt ended up with a wine glass stem through both cheeks.

Someone pulled it out, and when she screamed, her face whistled.

Frank comes from a long line of entertainers.

I'm a medical doctor.
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